


I Spy

by enigmaticblue



Series: Child's Play [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing worse than one miniaturized Avenger is two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Spy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the trope_bingo prompt "de-aged"

**1.**

 

Nick Fury scowls when he hears the alarm go off, signaling an intruder on board the helicarrier. He strides out of the conference room and onto the bridge. “Hill! What’s the problem?” he demands.

 

“There’s a report of two children on board, sir,” she replies with only the barest flicker of emotion. “Agent Barrow spotted them first, but they got away from him.”

 

“Where the hell did they go?” Fury growls. “And why haven’t you found them yet?”

 

Hill hesitates. “We think they may be in the air ducts, sir.”

 

Fury suddenly understands why they haven’t been found; the ducts are too small for most of his agents, and he can’t have people crawling about the bowels of the ship. “What about Barton and Romanov?” he asks, knowing that they know the helicarrier as well as anyone. “Are they awake yet?”

 

Hill’s expression betrays a slight uneasiness. “They’ve disappeared, sir.”

 

Fury feels a sense of foreboding. “What do you mean, ‘they’ve disappeared?’”

 

“They’re no longer in the infirmary, but no one saw them leave,” Hill replies. “I thought that with the children—”

 

“Pull the surveillance footage from the infirmary,” Fury orders. “Do it now.”

 

Hill doesn’t question his orders, although she does appear mildly curious. The footage shows what Fury had suspected it might—two small children sneaking out of the infirmary, hand in hand, both wearing oversized scrub shirts. The girl has Romanov’s short red hair, and the boy is the spitting image of Barton.

 

“Shit,” Hill summarizes succinctly.

 

“Do we know who or what attacked them yesterday?” Fury asks.

 

She shakes her head. “They were unconscious when they were found, and they hadn’t woken up to tell us what happened.”

 

Fury grunts. “I’m getting tired of this shit. Did Coulson ever discover who attacked Captain Rogers the last time?”

 

“No, sir. He had no explanation,” Hill replies, her tone slightly disapproving.

 

“Call him,” Fury orders. “He’s their handler; he should be here.”

 

“He’s with the rest of the team,” Hill reminds him.

 

Fury glares at her. “I’m aware, get him back here.”

 

“What about the children?” Hill asks.

 

“They have to come out sometime,” Fury replies grimly. “Put everyone on alert. I want to know the minute they poke their heads out.”

 

Hill looks dubious, but she nods. “Yes, sir.”

 

Several hours later, Coulson steps onto the bridge. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

 

“Did Hill tell you what happened?” Fury asks.

 

Coulson’s blandly pleasant expression doesn’t waver. “Yes, sir, she did.”

 

“I want this stopped, Coulson,” Fury insists. “I’m not losing two of my best agents for months.”

 

Coulson nods. “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

 

Fury knows Coulson well enough to hear what Coulson is _really_ saying, which is “kindly fuck off, sir.”

 

“Director Fury!” A young agent comes skidding out onto the bridge. “We caught one of them.”

 

Fury follows the agent, Coulson at his heels, and soon realizes that they’re heading toward the mess hall. Figures.

 

Agent Kim is struggling to hold onto a squirming Clint Barton, who looks to be no more than eight. Out of nowhere, a small, red-headed girl springs onto Kim’s back, putting an arm around Kim’s neck, strangling him.

 

“I’ve got Barton,” Coulson says, and wades into the fray, grabbing Barton by the back of his scrub shirt and pulls him away from Kim, wrapping an arm around him from behind.

 

Fury does the same thing with Romanov, but she’s surprisingly strong for her size, and he has to peel her arm away from Kim’s throat. “Enough,” Fury orders, but Romanov just wriggles harder.

 

“Settle down,” Coulson says sharply. “We won’t hurt you.”

 

Barton goes limp, panting and glaring at Fury. “Fuck off.”

 

Romanov hisses something in Russian that’s probably something along those lines.

 

“Language,” Coulson says mildly, then says something else in Russian.

 

Natasha goes still in Fury’s grip and replies in the same language, sounding surprised.

 

Coulson’s voice is very gentle when he responds, and then he nods. “I think you can put her down now, sir.”

 

Fury’s none too sure about that, but he sets her down on her feet. The top of her head barely comes to his waist, and the scrub shirt hangs askew, revealing a pale shoulder.

 

“Clint, I’m going to let you go now,” Coulson says softly. “Are you going to attack Agent Kim again?”

 

Barton scowls. “Hey, he was the one who grabbed me.”

 

“Okay,” Coulson replies and releases him.

 

Barton immediately goes to Romanov, standing half in front of her, taking her hand in his. “What do you want with us?”

 

Coulson glances at Fury, who motions in a “go ahead” gesture. As far as Fury’s concerned, Coulson can handle this mess.

 

“We don’t want anything with you,” Coulson replies. “We found both of you unconscious, and we brought you back here to the infirmary, which is where you were when you woke up. Do you remember anything?”

 

Something akin to fear crosses both their faces, and Fury makes a note of it. He has no idea just _what_ they’re afraid of; he knows their background, so it could be that, or they could just be afraid of him and the rest of the SHIELD agents. But if the other Avengers’ experiences hold true, they’re afraid because they’d each had a rough childhood.

 

He’s well aware of what Barton and Romanov have to remember.

 

Barton squares his shoulders. “How do you know my name? Where’s my brother?”

 

“I don’t know where your brother is, but we’ll do our best to find him,” Coulson replies. “And we found your name from a missing persons report.”

 

It’s a plausible lie, one that Barton apparently buys, but Romanov speaks sharply in Russian.

 

“English,” Coulson says implacably.

 

“I am not _missing_ ,” Romanov says in strongly accented English. “ _Taken_.”

 

Coulson shakes his head. “I do not know who took you, but I know you showed up on one of our missions. We didn’t take you.”

 

Barton’s chin tilts up. “Yeah? Well, what are you gonna do with us?” he asks defiantly.

 

Coulson smiles. “We’re going to look after you.”

 

Romanov says something in Russian, then adds in English, “I stay with him.”

 

“We wouldn’t dream of separating you,” Coulson promises. “Now, how about we find you something else to wear?”

 

**2.**

 

Phil locates appropriate attire—or something approximating it—by calling a couple of the more petite agents. Between the two of them, they scrounge up a pair of black mesh shorts and a black t-shirt that will at least stay on Clint’s sturdy frame. One of the women also produces a blue tunic that covers Natasha from neck to knees.

 

While the two kids are getting changed behind a screen in the infirmary, Fury pulls Phil aside. “I’m assigning you to this full time. I want the person responsible caught.”

 

“I already called Bruce,” Phil assures him. “He and Stark are on it. I had to give them the location of their last mission.”

 

“Fine,” Fury says gruffly. “We know it’s not Loki, so figure it out. I assume you’re going to take them back to the Tower.”

 

Phil shrugs. “It’s the logical choice. My apartment is not a feasible alternative, and I assume you don’t want them to stay on the helicarrier.”

 

Fury snorts. “Hell, no. Tell Dr. Banner that he’ll have whatever help he needs.”

 

“I’ll pass along that message, sir,” Phil agrees. “Shall I let him know you’re available for babysitting?”

 

Fury glares at him. “Don’t push your luck, Agent. Figure this out, and good luck with those two. You make it through this without them killing someone or disappearing, I’ll put you up for a commendation.”

 

“I already have a few of those, sir,” Phil replies. “But I could do with a vacation.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Fury promises.

 

Somehow, Phil suspects he’s more likely to get a commendation; those are easier to come by these days.

 

Clint and Natasha emerge, still looking as wary as a couple of feral cats.

 

“These are girl’s clothes,” Clint says accusingly.

 

“We’ll get you something else once we get where we’re going,” Phil says. “This is just until we find something better.”

 

“Where are we going?” Natasha asks in Russian, sounding just a little bit afraid.

 

At this age—about six or seven, Phil guesses—she would have just begun her training, long enough to give her a basic understanding of English, but not so long that she would be fully capable of hiding all emotion yet.

 

She’s still, for all intents and purposes, a little girl.

 

“We’re going to stay with some friends of mine,” Phil replies gently. “My apartment isn’t exactly kid-friendly.”

 

Clint’s eyes narrow. “You’re not dumping us on them?”

 

“You two are my most important responsibility right now,” Phil replies.

 

“But why you?” Clint presses, and apparently his knack for questioning things is inherent, because it hasn’t changed in 25 years. “Aren’t you important?”

 

Phil smiles. “This is my job, and it’s important that I make sure you two are okay.”

 

Clint nods dubiously. “Okay.”

 

“Have you two ever been in a helicopter?” Phil asks.

 

Clint’s face brightens. “Seriously? We’re going to ride in a helicopter?”

 

Natasha rolls her eyes, and Phil has to fight to keep his grin from showing, since it’s so perfectly _them_.

 

“I expect frequent updates,” Fury says.

 

“Of course, sir,” Phil replies. “Let’s go, you two.”

 

Phil herds them out, and decides that this is a fairly good representation of his life. As the _de facto_ handler for the Avengers Initiative, he feels as though he’s herding cats most days, and having one team member down had been bad enough. With these two, Phil’s going to have his hands more than full.

 

Clint keeps his nose pressed against the small window for the entire flight, and Natasha does the same after only a couple of minutes in the air.

 

Phil suddenly has a strong desire to make sure that the two of them have the chance to be children, knowing full well that they hadn’t had much of a shot in the past.

 

The chopper lands on the roof of Stark Tower, and Clint jumps out before Phil can caution him to be careful. He’s between Natasha and the door, so he thanks the pilot and lifts her down. He nudges them both towards the building and is unsurprised to find Bruce waiting for them—although he hadn’t expected to find Tony there as well.

 

They’re bent over a hologram model of what look like some kind of engine, Stark talking fast and Bruce watching him with an indulgent expression, which is pretty standard.

 

Bruce turns when they enter, a warm smile on his face. “Hey, Phil. I didn’t think we’d see you again so soon.”

 

“I appreciate you taking the time,” Phil replies. “Clint, Natasha, this is Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark.”

 

“You can call me Bruce.” He holds out a hand for them to shake each in turn. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

 

“What kind of doctor is he?” Natasha asks suspiciously in Russian.

 

Bruce replies in the same language, “I’m a physicist.”

 

“I didn’t know you spoke Russian,” Phil says. “That’s not in your file.”

 

“There’s a lot about this guy that’s not in his file,” Tony says with a suggestive smirk. “Hey, kids. Welcome, make yourselves at home, yadda yadda. And call me Tony.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Are you all hungry?”

 

There’s a long pause, since apparently neither is willing to be the first to admit that they’re hungry.

 

“I’m hungry,” Phil says mildly.

 

“Starving,” Tony adds. “Pepper should be home soon, too. I think she was picking up some clothes for you two.”

 

Clint frowns. “Not girl clothes, right?”

 

“Definitely not,” Tony says with a snort. “And if you don’t like what Pepper brings over, you can get something else you do like.”

 

Natasha wears an expression of disbelief. “Me too?”

 

“Absolutely,” Tony agrees. “In fact, if you ask her, I’ll bet Pepper would take you shopping.”

 

Natasha looks vaguely disturbed. “And I keep it?”

 

“As long as it fits,” Tony says. “Now, I need to put you two to work. Bruce here has a few games he’s working on, and we need testers.”

 

Clint frowns. “Seriously?”

 

“It’ll be fun,” Tony insists. “And if it’s not fun, we want to know about it, because fun is the point.”

 

As Tony gets them set up in a holographic video game, Phil wanders over to Bruce. “I thought Tony would have a problem with this,” Phil murmurs.

 

Bruce smiles. “Tony has no problem being the fun uncle, and he knows I’m not solely responsible for them, which means he doesn’t have to share.” He pauses and adds, “Plus, he likes Clint and Natasha.”

 

“And he doesn’t like Steve?” Phil asks.

 

“Tony’s feelings about Steve are complicated,” Bruce hedges. “Although I think they’ve come to an understanding. Do you know what happened?”

 

Phil shakes his head. “I need the two of you to see if you can trace whoever did it.”

 

“We’re working on it,” Bruce says. “With the information you gave us, we were able to get some readings. There was a type of energy present that we’ve never seen before, and we’re trying to trace it now.”

 

Phil nods. “You sure you have room for us?”

 

“Judging by what you said, we got bunk beds for one of the rooms,” Bruce replies. “You’ll be right next door.”

 

Phil does a quick calculation in his head and realizes where that probably leaves Bruce—either on the couch, or in bed with Pepper and Tony. He’s suspected as much, but this is the first concrete confirmation he’s had.

 

“Well, that’s another couple of willing test subjects,” Tony says as he rejoins them. “Bruce, you want to cook, or should I order in?”

 

“Better order in,” Bruce replies. “Something kid-friendly.”

 

Tony grins. “Spaghetti with meatballs?”

 

Phil suspects it’s an inside joke from the way Bruce laughs and looks away, then glances back at Tony.

 

“I think that’s probably a good idea,” Bruce replies. “Don’t forget to order the vegetarian lasagna for Pepper. You know how much she loves that.”

 

Since that’s definitely more than Phil wants to know, he wanders over towards where Clint and Natasha are playing Tony’s holographic videogame with obvious enthusiasm.

 

Phil squints and realizes that they’re shooting robots with abandon, and he smiles.

 

This might not be a bad gig after all.

 

**3.**

 

Pepper wonders when she’d become used to phone calls that begin with, “Phil called, and apparently Clint and Natasha are, uh, small. They need to stay with us for a while.”

 

Maybe when she started sleeping with _two_ superheroes.

 

She bustles through the door with her arms full of bags and finds Phil doing paperwork, and Bruce and Tony are bouncing data back and forth on a screen. So far, it’s just a typical evening—save for Phil’s presence—but then she spots a couple of kids playing a holographic videogame and shooting robots.

 

Pepper smiles, puts her bags down, and kicks off her heels. “Hello.”

 

Tony and Bruce both grin, although only Tony comes over to greet her. They’re still fairly discreet around company. “Hey,” Tony says, kissing her deeply, and then whispers in her ear, “and that’s from Bruce, too.”

 

When Pepper glances at Bruce, he looks a little wistful, but his smile is warm, and she knows they’ll make it up later, with interest.

 

“We ordered dinner,” Bruce says. “Italian, including the lasagna you like.”

 

“You know me well,” Pepper replies with a smile that promises more when they’re alone, and Tony’s arm tightens around her.

 

Phil hasn’t looked up from his form that’s apparently filled in triplicate, given how he separates the pages into different piles. “Hi, Pepper.”

 

“It’s good to see you, Phil,” Pepper replies.

 

“Hey, kids, come say hello,” Phil calls.

 

Clint groans, but says, “Pause.”

 

“Thank you,” Phil says politely. “Clint, Natasha, this is Pepper Potts.”

 

Clint holds out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Potts.”

 

Pepper has to admit that she’s charmed, and she shakes his hand. “You can call me Pepper.”

 

Clint grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Pepper turns to Natasha. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

 

Natasha shakes her hand briefly but says nothing. Pepper doesn’t press. “I brought clothes for you guys if you want to change.”

 

Clint looks cautiously hopeful. “Not girl clothes?”

 

“Definitely not,” Pepper says, leaning back against Tony since he’s still right there. “Although hopefully Natasha likes her clothes. Go see, if you want.”

 

Clint immediately heads for the bags, with Natasha trailing behind, and he’s soon rooting through the bag happily, handing Natasha the things clearly meant for her. He pulls out a stuffed blue rabbit with long, floppy ears and hesitates noticeably before holding it out to Natasha.

 

Natasha looks visibly torn, and she slowly pets one of the ears but doesn’t take it from Clint.

 

“Check the other bags,” Pepper suggests with a smile.

 

Tony glances at her questioningly, but she gives a brief shake of her head, wanting to see the reaction when they find the other toy.

 

The plush elephant that Clint locates is a soft gray, its ears lined with pink felt, and Natasha’s face lights up.

 

Pepper had remembered an idle conversation they’d had a year ago, back when Bruce had been small, when Natasha had mentioned liking elephants. Pepper had decided to take a chance that she always had.

 

Clint grins in reply and hands her the elephant, which she tucks under one arm; the rabbit sits on the floor next to Clint until he’s unpacked the bags. He looks up at Pepper with wide eyes. “This is all for us?”

 

“I enjoy playing fairy godmother,” Pepper replies. “Why don’t you go change? I want to make sure those clothes fit.”

 

“Come on,” Bruce says. “I’ll show you where you guys are going to sleep.”

 

By the time Clint and Natasha reappear, the food has arrived, and Bruce and Pepper are setting out plates and cutlery. If their hips occasionally bump, or their hands brush, no one seems to notice.

 

Well, Tony almost certainly notices, but he’s probably enjoying it, and Phil knows when to ignore the evidence that’s right under his nose when it’s none of his business.

 

Bruce touches her hip as he passes her and his smile is for her alone, and warms Pepper to the bone.

 

“Is this okay?” Clint asks.

 

The jeans Pepper had purchased are a little long, but fit well enough otherwise. Natasha is wearing a purple dress and leggings, and she seems pleased with it.

 

“You both look great,” Pepper says. “Do they fit?”

 

They both nod, suddenly shy, and Phil says, “Come eat, you two.”

 

It’s a bit of a strange situation, but Pepper has grown used to those, and it’s not _so_ different from the team dinners they’ve had together. Natasha is very quiet, and Pepper misses her sly, witty comments, and Clint’s quiet until Tony asks him about the game they’d been playing, and then Clint chatters non-stop.

 

Tony questions him closely, and then turns his attention on Natasha, who seems slightly more susceptible to Tony’s charms as a child than she had as a woman. At least, he has her giggling at his gentle teasing as he makes fun of Clint. Of course, she also laughs when Tony promises that he could wipe the floor with both of them, so maybe it’s her own private joke that causes her to laugh.

 

“What about it, Bruce?” Tony asks. “You want to help me beat these two?”

 

Bruce grimaces. “You know I’m no good at that sort of thing.”

 

“I am,” Phil says mildly. “Although, I doubt it will be a fair fight.”

 

Natasha lifts her chin and says something in what has to be Russian, which causes both Bruce and Phil to hide a smile. At Pepper’s frown, Bruce translates, “She says that they don’t stand a chance.”

 

Pepper snickers. “Bruce and I will be happy to watch.”

 

“And cheer us on?” Tony asks with a smirk.

 

Pepper shares a conspiratorial look with Natasha. “I think us girls have to stick together.”

 

Natasha grins at her, bright and mischievous, and Pepper suspects that she’s going to be very grateful that Natasha and Clint are largely Phil’s responsibility until they’re back to normal.

 

“I’ll cheer for the old guys,” Bruce says deadpan, and Pepper’s pretty sure that Tony’s foot brushes her leg as he kicks Bruce.

 

“You’re older than I am,” Tony points out.

 

Bruce smiles. “Which would be why I’m cheering for the two of you. I feel a certain solidarity.”

 

“Us old guys have to stick together,” Phil agrees gravely.

 

After they put the leftovers away, they settle down in the living room. Clint and Natasha sit with enviable ease on the floor, while Tony and Phil perch on the edge of the couch. Bruce sits close enough to Pepper on the other end of the couch that she can feel his thigh brush hers when he shifts, his arm slung over the back of the seat behind her head.

 

Pepper slumps against his side in the name of being friendly, and Bruce’s hand cups her shoulder.

 

Surprisingly enough, Phil is just as competitive as Tony, and it’s a hard-fought battle. Clint and Natasha win the first round of some kind of game that involves a lot of shooting, but Tony and Phil win the second.

 

There’s a lot of trash talk, mostly from Clint and Tony, although Natasha inserts an occasional comment in Russian that has Bruce laughing next to Pepper, and Bruce whispers the translations into Pepper’s ear.

 

Apparently, Natasha’s wry humor is innate.

 

Tony just manages to pull victory from the jaws of defeat in the third round, killing Clint’s avatar and crowing triumphantly. “Age rules!”

 

Clint groans. “You cheated.”

 

Tony grins. “Not this time.”

 

“I think it’s time for you two to be in bed,” Phil announces, then says something in Russian.

 

Clint groans theatrically, reminding Pepper of Tony when he’d been small. “Come on! Best out of five?”

 

“It’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” Phil insists, handing off his controller to Tony and beginning to herd both kids back to the living quarters. “Let’s go.”

 

As soon as they’re out of the room, Tony takes his chance, kissing Bruce with the warm passion that Pepper always enjoys witnessing. Bruce hums his approval, and Tony pulls back. “Pass that along to Pepper, would you?” Tony murmurs, still leaning over them.

 

Bruce rolls his eyes, but he does as Tony suggests, and Pepper threads her fingers through Bruce’s coarse hair, reveling in the feeling of having come home. It might be strange, but the three of them make a team, more complete with three than they had been with two.

 

Pepper can no longer imagine her life without Bruce _or_ Tony.

 

There’s the sound of a throat clearing, and when Bruce would have pulled away, Pepper holds on tight, deciding to make her point.

 

If they’re going to have company, Pepper refuses to hide.

 

When she pulls back finally, Bruce wears a wry, somewhat bashful grin, and Phil looks placid. “I think I might turn in as well,” he says with little inflection. “It’s been a long day.”

 

“Sleep well,” Tony says cheerfully. “Let us know if you need anything—you know, in the morning.”

 

Phil’s eyebrow twitches slightly, but he just nods pleasantly. “Thanks. I appreciate all of this.”

 

“Whatever we can do to help,” Pepper replies sincerely.

 

Bruce smiles. “Just let me know if you need a break.”

 

Phil disappears silently, and Tony looks at the two of them with a grin. “Now, what do you say we take this party to the bedroom?”

 

**4.**

 

Steve had been with Phil when he gets the call about what’s going on, so he hears about the situation before anybody else. Phil promises to let Steve know if he can help, and while Steve knows he might have to wait awhile, someone will call him.

 

He’s well aware that having two Avengers down means that he’ll be needed, and he’s grateful for it—if only because Steve likes being needed.

 

He’s actually a little surprised when it’s Bruce who makes the call, but Steve greets him cordially. Steve likes Bruce as a friend, but even more, he remembers how Bruce had cared for him when he’d been small, which somewhat complicates matters.

 

In short, Steve likes Bruce, he trusts him, and in many ways, he looks up to him as a kind of trusted father figure, although he’d hero-worshipped Phil.

 

It’s strange how those emotions have carried over.

 

“Hey, Steve,” Bruce says warmly. “I’m sure you’ve heard.”

 

“I was with Phil when he got called in,” Steve confirms. “How’s everything going?”

 

Bruce hesitates. “It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to drop by.”

 

Steve swiftly translates that suggestion. “Let me guess, Phil could use a break.”

 

“Not that he’d ever admit it,” Bruce confirms. “Fair warning, they’re a double handful.”

 

Steve does a mental calculation. “Worse than Tony?”

 

“Not _worse_ ,” Bruce hedges. “Let’s just say that there are two of them, Natasha’s sneaky, and Clint’s fearless.”

 

Steve laughs. “And you haven’t gotten stuck with them?”

 

“They’re Phil’s assignment, so he’s pretty territorial,” Bruce explains. “But I’m pretty sure he needs the break, and I think he’ll accept help from you. He still feels like he’s imposing on us.”

 

It makes a certain amount of sense, and Steve readily agrees. “When should I come over?”

 

“Oh, give it about an hour,” Bruce replies, sounding amused. “I think he’ll be ready then.”

 

Steve has no idea what that means, but suspects he’ll find out when he arrives. “I’ll do my best.”

 

“Just so you know, Natasha understands a lot more than she’ll let on,” Bruce warns him. “So if she plays dumb, it’s probably an act. And Clint is still incredibly loyal to her, so she can get him to do things he probably would know better than to do otherwise.”

 

A complete picture is beginning to take shape.

 

“And how often does she take advantage of those two facts?” Steve asks.

 

Bruce chuckles. “More often than Phil would like, I’ll tell you that much.”

 

“I’ll be there,” Steve promises. “Maybe I’ll take them to an amusement park. That’s what Clint did.”

 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Bruce replies. “It might serve as enough of a distraction that they won’t gang up on you.”

 

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

 

He can _hear_ Bruce grin. “Imagine if you had to deal with me and Tony at the same time.”

 

“Oh, boy,” Steve mutters. “Are you sure Phil hasn’t gone insane?”

 

Bruce laughs. “That’s where you come in. Come with a plan.”

 

Steve has no idea what he’s going to do. Clint had taken him to Coney Island when their positions were reversed, but it hasn’t reopened yet.

 

One nice thing about having revisited his childhood, though—he knows how to use a search engine, and it doesn’t take long to come up with an alternate plan. Victorian Gardens might not offer quite the same level of excitement, but it’s relatively close to the Tower, and there are other things they can do in Central Park.

 

It’s mid-morning when he arrives at the Tower, and the elevator sends Steve up to the Penthouse after Steve gives his voiceprint.

 

He finds Phil standing in the middle of the living area, tie askew, pinching the bridge of his nose, and with no kids in sight.

 

“Hey,” Steve says.

 

Phil straightens, his expression suddenly bland. “Steve. It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

 

“Good,” Steve replies. “Busy, you know? How, uh, how are the kids?”

 

“Who called you?” Phil asks with good humor.

 

Steve shrugs. “I don’t think that really matters.”

 

“Banner,” Phil mutters. “He knows how to read people.”

 

Steve, who knows just a little bit about Bruce’s past, has some idea of why he would—not to mention the fact that Bruce had been on the run for a long time. He would have to know how to read the signs, the same way Steve knows how to spot a bully.

 

“How are you?” Steve asks.

 

Phil sighs. “I’m going to go completely gray before this is all over. Is there a specific reason you’re here?”

 

Steve shrugs. “Field trip, I thought. Where are they?”

 

“They’re around here somewhere,” Phil replies. “Frankly, with the racket they’ve been making, I’m not sorry they’re elsewhere.”

 

Steve understands what Phil means in another moment when he hears a wild whoop, and a red-haired girl chases a tow-headed boy into the room. She’s yelling something in what’s probably Russian, and the boy shouts, “You can’t catch me! Not it! Not it!”

 

Steve swallows his laughter. “Have they been like this all morning?”

 

“Since they woke up,” Phil agrees, tension in his tone. “Nothing I say will get them to stop. Bruce and Stark retreated to save their own sanity.”

 

“How about a promise?” Steve suggests, and then raises his voice. “I’m going to an amusement park. If anybody wants to come with me, they’d better settle down and demonstrate they can behave. This is a one-time offer.”

 

Clint, at least, screeches to a halt. “An amusement park? Really? Are there rides?”

 

Natasha pauses, apparently realizing that the game has come to a stop for now, although she’s regarding Steve warily.

 

Phil ignores Clint’s bad manners, and his question. “Clint, Natasha, this is my friend Steve.”

 

Clint sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

 

Natasha echoes him, her words heavily accented. “Nice to meet you.”

 

“So, we can go?” Clint asks impatiently.

 

“I should probably say no,” Phil says severely. “I’m not sure you can be trusted to behave for Steve.”

 

Clint ducks his head as though ashamed, but Steve can see a smile tilting up his lips. “We’ll be good!”

 

Phil doesn’t respond in words, but Steve suspects that it’s only his discipline that keeps him from burying his face in his hands. “You have to stay with Steve. No running off on your own.”

 

“All right, Mr. Phil,” Clint agrees immediately. “Can we still go to the amusement park? Natasha’s never been.”

 

It’s a clever ploy, and Steve knows it’s a ploy because he remembers kids from the orphanage wearing that expression when convincing rich people that they were hungrier and sicker than they actually were.

 

Steve had never been comfortable pretending, even if it meant extra food, but he knows the look, and he knows what to watch for.

 

“Steve might not want to take you now,” Phil counters.

 

Clint’s expression turns pleading. “We’ll behave!”

 

“I have two rules,” Steve says sternly. “First, we stay together at all times. If you run off, we’ll come straight back here, and you won’t get the chance again.”

 

Clint nods slowly. “What’s the second rule?”

 

“We’re going to have fun,” Steve says simply.

 

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Phil says slowly.

 

Steve smiles. “Trust me. We’ll be fine.”

 

Phil squares his shoulders. “Maybe I should change,” he says, gesturing at his suit. “I could go with you.”

 

“Maybe you should take the day off,” Steve counters.

 

“I agree.” Bruce enters the room, dressed casually in khakis and a red t-shirt. “”So, Steve, what’s the plan?”

 

“Central Park, Victorian Gardens,” Steve replies.

 

Bruce looks thoughtful. “I’ve never been.”

 

“Feel free to tag along,” Steve invites.

 

Bruce says something in what Steve assumes is Russian, and Natasha responds in kind. “I might as well come along to translate,” Bruce points out.

 

Phil frowns. “I can’t believe you’re managing me, Dr. Banner.”

 

Bruce shrugs. “I manage Tony all the time. I’ll let you figure out who’s more difficult.”

 

Phil smiles ruefully. “There are a few things I’d like to get done.”

 

“Great!” Steve says. “Come on, guys.”

 

They take the subway since it’s so close, and there doesn’t seem to be much point asking for a car. Bruce insists they hold hands as they move through the crowds on the platform. When Clint protests, Bruce says, “It’s either holding hands or going home. It’s up to you.”

 

Clint heaves a sigh. “Okay.”

 

Natasha slips her hand into Bruce’s, saying something in Russian, and Bruce huffs a laugh.

 

Steve has some idea of why a boy Clint’s age doesn’t want to hold hands in public, and he compromises by resting a hand on Clint’s shoulder.

 

Clint tenses briefly, and then relaxes, glancing up at him with a grateful smile.

 

It’s a relatively short trip, and once Bruce pays their admission fees, they start out with the rides. Steve isn’t terribly surprised when Clint’s a little disappointed that the rides aren’t more thrilling, although he doesn’t complain.

 

Bruce is good company, patient with the kids and game for just about anything. Natasha and Clint get excited when they see the face painting booth, and Bruce pays for both of them. Clint gets his face painted to look like a dog, and Natasha opts for flowers on her cheeks.

 

When the kids are tired of walking, Steve gives Clint a piggyback ride, and Bruce swings Natasha up on his shoulders, and she holds on tightly to his t-shirt.

 

They grab hotdogs at a stand, and Clint seems to revive a bit at that, running ahead and shimmying up a tree before Steve can stop him.

 

“Come on down!” Steve orders.

 

“But I can see better up here!” Clint protests.

 

Bruce raises his voice just slightly. “Clint. Steve asked you to come down. If you want a repeat any time soon, you’ll do as he asks.”

 

Clint jumps down with a pout. “No fair. I like climbing.”

 

“Tell you what,” Bruce says. “You behave for Phil for the next couple of days, someone will take you climbing, and you can go as high as you want.”

 

Clint’s eyes narrow. “Really?”

 

“Promise,” Bruce replies.

 

“Me too?” Natasha asks. “I can climb!”

 

“I’m sure you can,” Bruce replies with a fond smile. “And yes, you, too. Like we can separate you two.”

 

They find a playground and let Clint and Natasha run around, Clint following Natasha’s lead as often as not. Steve sits next to Bruce on a nearby bench.

 

“So, how are you guys?” Steve asks.

 

Bruce glances over at him, his face flushed with the heat of the day. “What do you mean?”

 

“You know, you, Tony, and Pepper,” Steve replies. “You guys.”

 

Bruce glances away, looking a little embarrassed. “I didn’t realize you knew.”

 

“I picked up on a few things,” Steve says. “I don’t care as long as you’re happy.”

 

Bruce looks a little surprised. “Why me?”

 

“Well, all three of you, but I still remember what it was like, and you were really good to me,” Steve explains awkwardly. “You all were, even Tony, in his own way.”

 

Bruce chuckles, focusing on Clint swinging himself along on the monkey bars. “We’re good.”

 

“You’re happy?”

 

“Yeah, I’m happy,” Bruce insists. “How about you? Are you okay?”

 

Steve tips his head back and looks up at the bright blue sky, the fluffy white clouds scudding along, feels the heat and feels completely content.

 

They’re a team now, whatever happens, and he says, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

 

And then he sees Clint standing on the monkey bars, balancing precariously, and Steve gets to his feet. “This isn’t going to end well.”

 

Clint loses his balance and goes down with a cry of pain, and Steve is halfway there, Bruce at his heels, and Steve knows they’ll deal with this as well.

 

**5.**

 

Tony is elbows-deep in an engine when Bruce wanders into the workshop, and Tony looks up with a grin that swiftly fades as he sees the stains on Bruce’s shirt.

 

“That looks like blood,” Tony says. “Is that blood? Are you okay? Are the kids okay?”

 

Bruce’s lips tilt up in a smile. “I notice you don’t ask about Steve.”

 

“Because I’m worried about you,” Tony points out. “And Steve was frozen for decades. He can probably handle just about anything. What happened?”

 

“Clint fell off the jungle gym and needed stitches in his head,” Bruce says.

 

Tony raises his eyebrows. “Did you stitch him up?”

 

“It seemed like the thing to do at the time,” Bruce confirms. “Phil’s taking them to get checked out by SHIELD’s medical staff, but it didn’t seem prudent to go to the ER.”

 

“And Steve?” Tony asks.

 

“Went with Phil.”

 

Tony grins. “So, we’re alone.”

 

Bruce looks amused. “You have a one track mind.”

 

“Have you seen yourself?” Tony demands. “Can you blame me?”

 

Bruce glances away, ducking his head in that way he does when he’s been given a compliment. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“Then I’ll just have to go about showing you,” Tony counters and pulls Bruce in for a kiss, smelling the sharp smell of sweat. “You should probably get cleaned up.”

 

Bruce wrinkles his nose. “You, too,” he replies, pointedly looking at the grease streaks on Tony’s arms.

 

“I’m not quite done yet. You want me to order something for dinner?” Tony offers.

 

“Might as well,” Bruce agrees wearily. “I don’t think I’m up for cooking tonight.”

 

Tony looks at him sharply, seeing his weary posture. “Why do you let yourself get roped into this sort of thing?” he demands. “You shouldn’t have to; Phil’s in charge.”

 

Bruce shrugs. “He needed a break, and I don’t mind.”

 

“You’re tired,” Tony replies, cupping Bruce’s jaw.

 

“Hazards of the job,” Bruce says. “I really don’t mind, Tony. I like kids. I thought—”

 

He stops, his mouth closing tightly as though he’s said too much, and maybe he has, because Tony knows exactly what he isn’t saying. “You’re good with them.”

 

Some of the unhappiness leaves his expression. “Thanks.”

 

Tony’s never given serious thought to having kids, mostly because he’s never felt the need, but it doesn’t surprise him that Bruce had wanted children at one point, or that he’d view it as an impossibility now. He wonders if Pepper knows, and suspects that she probably does.

 

Glancing over at the engine, he decides that he can finish up some other time, and wraps a hand around Bruce’s wrist. “Come on,” he urges. “We can conserve water.”

 

Tony keeps things casual, easy, getting the sense that Bruce’s head isn’t really in the game, but at least he relaxes under Tony’s hands, the tension easing out of him. When they’ve dried off and dressed, Tony pulls Bruce to him, his back to Tony’s front, and he presses a kiss to the back of Bruce’s neck.

 

“Okay?” Tony asks.

 

“I’m fine,” Bruce assures him. “I’ve just been—thinking.”

 

“And that’s different from any other time?” Tony teases. “Your brain is one of the things I like best about you.”

 

Bruce turns. “And here I thought you wanted me for my body.”

 

“Well, I have to admit that the packaging is alluring,” Tony says.

 

“Are you two getting started without me?” Pepper asks from the doorway of the bedroom.

 

“We haven’t started anything,” Tony replies.

 

Bruce smiles at her. “Did you see the others when you came in?”

 

“They’re back, and I believe Clint’s trying to wheedle pizza out of Phil, with some success,” Pepper responds. “Are you two hungry?”

 

Tony glances at Bruce, letting him make the call.

 

“I could eat,” Bruce agrees. “Unless—you wanted to do something else?”

 

Tony shares a look with Pepper, and she says, “Actually, I’m starving, if we could put this on hold.”

 

Bruce’s expression is grateful. “I’m going to check on Clint.”

 

“Be right there,” Tony promises, waiting until he’s left the room.

 

Pepper proceeds to change into something more comfortable, and Tony perches on the bed. “Did you know that Bruce wanted kids?” he asks.

 

She dropped her shirt on the floor and pulled a t-shirt from a hanger. “He’s said as much in the past.”

 

Tony frowns. “When was that?”

 

“When you were small,” Pepper replies. “We had a lot of time to talk.”

 

“And why didn’t I know that?”

 

“It’s not something Bruce talks about,” Pepper replies. “He barely talked about it with me, and that was only because he’d had a little more to drink than usual.”

 

Tony glances at her. “It’s not something we’ve talked about.”

 

Pepper kisses him lightly. “Because we’re both married to our careers, and it’s never come up before.” She gives him a searching look. “But I think you’d make a good father.”

 

Tony snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

“You were good with Bruce,” Pepper points out with a smile.

 

“Yeah, but Bruce was _mine_ ,” Tony replies.

 

She taps him gently on the cheek. “Exactly.”

 

They say nothing more about it, and Tony pushes the thought to the back of his mind. He likes to give the people he loves what they want, and he finds it rather disconcerting when that seems impossible.

 

Clint is stretched out on the couch, a large square of gauze taped over the left side of his forehead, and a spectacular black eye forming below. Natasha is curled up next to him, concern in her large, blue eyes.

 

“I hope you’ll be more careful in the future,” Coulson says severely.

 

Clint rolls his eyes, and then winces. “Bruce already told me. So did Steve.”

 

“And now I’m telling you,” Coulson replies, his tone a little sharp. “After your wild behavior this morning, and now this, I’m not sure what it’s going to take to get it through your head.”

 

Clint’s expression turns sullen. “I was just messing around.”

 

“Mess around a little more carefully in the future,” Coulson says wearily. “I’d like to keep you alive and in one piece if at all possible.”

 

Natasha’s eyes narrow. “He will be careful.”

 

Tony doesn’t bother hiding his smirk.

 

Steve’s head is tipped back against the couch, and he looks just as weary, wearing only his undershirt, a smudge of blood on the shoulder.

 

Clearly, it’s been an eventful day; Tony’s almost sorry he missed it.

 

“Straight to bed once you’ve eaten dinner,” Coulson insists.

 

Clint groans. “But I’m not sleepy!”

 

Coulson fixes him with a look that has Clint’s mouth snapping shut. “Do not push me,” Coulson warns him.

 

Tony remembers that tone of voice; it was the same one Coulson used when he threatened to tase Tony and leave him drooling on the carpet. He’s not surprised when Clint gets very quiet after that.

 

“All right, here’s the plan,” Tony announces. “You two are going to join me the day after tomorrow.”

 

All eyes turn to Tony with the same expressions of disbelief—everyone but Bruce, who looks highly amused.

 

“I think your competitive streak is coming out,” Bruce murmurs.

 

Tony scoffs. “What? No. I have tests to run. That new iteration of the game needs testing. I’m going to put them to work.”

 

“Uh huh,” Bruce murmurs, but he’s smiling.

 

“Meanwhile, Bruce and I will work on that thing,” Tony adds with a meaningful look at Coulson. “That tracking problem.”

 

Coulson smiles. “That would be nice. And if you could figure out a way to fix this little problem, that would be good.”

 

“Working on it,” Tony promises. “But we haven’t had much luck before.”

 

The pizza arrives, and Tony is rather amused when Clint makes it through about half a slice before passing out, and Natasha isn’t far behind.

 

Steve stands. “I’ve got Clint.”

 

Coulson picks up Natasha with a gentleness that is perhaps revealing. It’s not a side of Coulson Tony often sees. “Good night,” he says.

 

Bruce puts the pizza in the fridge and says, “I’m heading to bed.”

 

“Is that an invitation?” Tony asks.

 

“If you want to take it that way,” Bruce says with a tired grin.

 

Pepper stands gracefully. “Always.”

 

Looking at them, Tony feels pretty damned grateful.

 

~~~~~

 

The next day, he and Bruce work on tracking the radiation, but they have very little luck. It’s similar to the traces left behind by Loki when he’d attacked Tony, and that Bruce had later used to track Loki, but it’s not exactly the same.

 

In the late afternoon, Bruce rubs his eyes and asks, “What was the news coverage like about Loki?”

 

Tony runs a hand through his hair, frustrated at the lack of results. “When?”

 

“Right after the battle over Manhattan,” Bruce clarifies.

 

Tony shoots him an accusing look. “Oh, that’s right. You took off right after.”

 

“It seemed like the prudent thing to do,” Bruce says defensively. “And I came back, didn’t I?”

 

“You did,” Tony admits. “And there was some coverage, although it was fairly vague. Why?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “It just seems like a copycat. We know it’s not Loki, but the thing with Steve worked exactly the same, and it looks like it’s the same thing with Clint and Natasha.”

 

Tony frowns. “Jarvis, do a search for mentions of Loki. See if we’ve got any fans out there.”

 

“There are a number of sites that are dedicated to Loki, although not all mention him by name,” Jarvis replies. “But there are two in particular that discuss his magical abilities.”

 

“And I maintain that it’s not magic, it’s just science we don’t understand,” Tony counters. “But let’s see them.”

 

The first doesn’t have much information, and seems to be focused on celebrating the Loki of Norse mythology as more of a prankster. The second, however, talks about the need for chaos to foment change.

 

“Well, this looks promising,” Tony murmurs.

 

“They do know he killed a bunch of people, don’t they?” Bruce asks, although Tony takes it as the rhetorical question that it is.

 

Tony came by the nickname “Merchant of Death” honestly, after all, and there are plenty of sites devoted to him.

 

“There’s an entire forum dedicated to reproducing his magic,” Bruce observes after a minute.

 

“Jarvis, see if you can correlate data. Tell SHIELD we need information on whether these folks were in the same area where Natasha and Clint were hit,” Tony says.

 

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis agrees. “It may take some time, given that most are not using their legal names.”

 

“Do your best,” Tony replies. “All right, I need a break. What about you, Brucie?”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Don’t call me that. And yeah, we have a few other things to work on. What are you going to do with the kids tomorrow?”

 

“Does that mean you’re leaving them to me?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce grins. “Hey, you volunteered, and you’re Iron Man. I think you can handle them.”

 

“If all else fails, I’ll get in the suit and take them down to the firing range,” Tony replies. “I think I can handle it.”

 

“Call me if you need me,” Bruce says in the kind of tone that means, “I dare you.”

 

Tony thinks, _challenge accepted_ , but says, “I won’t.”

 

Bruce chuckles. “Good luck. Just keep them in one piece, or Coulson will have your hide.”

 

“Did he have your hide?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “But then, Steve took responsibility. You’ll be on your own.”

 

“I can handle it,” Tony says, a little stung.

 

Bruce leans in for a kiss. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

 

Pepper works late that night, and so do he and Bruce, which he regrets when Jarvis wakes him the next morning. Bruce wakes long enough to smirk at him before rolling back over.

 

“I have been a terrible influence on you,” Tony says, poking Bruce in the side before relenting and climbing out of bed. He’s determined to prove that he can handle this on his own.

 

Coulson’s waiting for him when he goes out to the kitchen. “They’re not awake yet,” he says. “All I ask is that they’re not missing any limbs by the end of the day, and that they’re not, you know, _missing_.”

 

“I’ll do my best,” Tony promises.

 

“Good luck,” Coulson replies.

 

Tony’s beginning to feel a sense of trepidation. “Thanks.”

 

He has time to drink a cup of coffee before Clint and Natasha emerge, and Clint in particular looks bright eyed and like he’s going to be trouble, but Tony has his eye on Natasha. He knows how sneaky she is.

 

They’re looking at him warily, probably because Tony hasn’t spent much time with them.

 

“First rule, nobody gets into trouble with Agent Coulson. Second rule, we all have a good time,” Tony says. “Now, who wants donuts for breakfast?”

 

Clint’s face lights up. “Donuts?”

 

“Whatever kind you want,” Tony promises.

 

“What is a donut?” Natasha asks.

 

Tony smiles. “You’re in for a treat.”

 

They walk to the nearest donut place, and Tony keeps hold of their hands, one on each side and tells them about the time he’d fought Ivan Vanko, although he doesn’t mention nearly dying, and he keeps it PG.

 

Clint’s entranced, but Natasha wears a dubious expression, as though she doesn’t quite believe him. Tony doesn’t worry about that.

 

Clint chooses a donut that’s nearly as big as his head, and Natasha selects a frosted cake donut with sprinkles. Because Tony’s nice, he grabs an extra glazed donut for Bruce.

 

“Right, time to work,” Tony says once they get back to the Tower. He leaves the extra donut out for Bruce. “We have stress testing to do.”

 

He expects their attention spans to be short, although he’s not terribly surprised when Natasha attacks the problem—in this case, a mission into enemy territory in the program they’re perfecting for the military.

 

Clint’s the one to call out orders, probably because Natasha understands English better than Clint understands Russian.

 

“To your right!” Clint shouts. “Right!”

 

Natasha swings her child-sized rifle around and fires quickly, taking down the enemy soldier, wearing the mask of a Hydra operative. She shouts out a warning—in Russian, although that doesn’t seem to matter, because Clint turns to face the next threat without waiting for Natasha to translate.

 

Tony keeps one ear out, waiting for their attention to flag, but the realism seems to be paying off, because they’re engrossed until they finish the mission, which gives him a couple of hours to get other things done. When they show signs of growing tired of it, Tony announces a trip to the gym.

 

If he wears them out before lunch, Tony thinks he might be able to sit them in front of the TV and get some work done.

 

Both of them are intrigued at the idea of getting into a real boxing ring, and they follow him downstairs.

 

“Are you going to fight us?” Clint asks, sounding excited.

 

Tony smiles. “Let’s see what you’ve got first. I’ll bet Natasha can take you down.”

 

Natasha grins broadly, but Clint frowns. “No way! I’m bigger, and she’s a girl.”

 

“That probably wasn’t the right thing to say,” Tony warns him. “Tell you what, I bet you a quiet afternoon that Natasha takes you down in five minutes or less.”

 

Clint puffs his chest out. “And if I take her?”

 

Tony glances at Natasha, and she has a familiar glint in her eye. There’s no question that she’s a master manipulator as a grown woman—the perfect spy, in fact—but right now she’s a girl whose honor has been insulted.

 

And right now, Clint is a small boy with something to prove.

 

The truth is, Tony’s been manipulating people for _years_ now, and he’s got one up in this situation.

 

“I’ll take you to the climbing wall,” Tony promises. “This afternoon, in fact.”

 

Clint slams a fist into an open palm. “Awesome. I’ve got this.”

 

Tony doesn’t have any child-sized gloves, but he wraps their wrists and tells Natasha in an undertone, “Go easy on him. He’s young.”

 

Natasha bares her teeth. “He’s my friend.”

 

Tony suspects that doesn’t mean she’ll go easy on him; it just means she won’t hurt him too badly.

 

Tony sits back and watches them circle each other. It’s clear that Natasha is waiting for Clint to make a move, and Clint isn’t quite willing to make the first move.

 

Finally, Clint tries to tackle her, and Natasha moves so quickly that Tony can’t quite figure out what she’s done, but she puts Clint on his back, and then gets to her feet in one smooth move.

 

“Best two out of three,” Clint says, getting to his feet, a challenge in his eyes.

 

Natasha grins and crooks her fingers in a gesture that transcends words.

 

Clint moves faster this time, and doesn’t hold back, but Natasha is ready for him. He throws a punch, and she moves out of the way, using his motion to throw him onto his back.

 

He groans. “How did you do that?”

 

“Natasha, you want to show Clint how you did that?” Tony suggests. “And then I’ll let you guys try it on me.”

 

After that, Clint loses a little bit of his cockiness, and Natasha is a relatively patient teacher once Clint isn’t trying to show her up.

 

“Come on, Tony,” Clint urges. “Come play with us.”

 

“You asked for it,” he warns. He doesn’t bother putting on gloves because he doesn’t plan on needing them.

 

They share a look and both attack him at once. Tony goes down in a tangle of limbs, and they both start giggling. Tony peels Clint off of him, throwing him halfway across the boxing ring—although he does so gently. He does the same for Natasha, and just manages to get her off him before Clint attacks him again.

 

Tony’s getting a little winded by the time he hears Bruce’s familiar rusty chuckles. “Help me,” Tony orders.

 

“Oh, it looks like you have things under control,” Bruce replies. “Clint, how’s your head?”

 

“I’m okay!” Clint insists from his spot on Tony’s chest. Natasha’s sprawled across his legs, and Tony could buck her off, but he’s not sure whether he can do so and not hurt her.

 

“Seriously?” Tony calls. “You’re not going to help me?”

 

Bruce laughs again. “I don’t know. What’s in it for me?”

 

“I’ll buy you lunch,” Tony suggests, lifting his head. “And I’ll make it worth your while.”

 

“Well, if you put it that way…” Bruce ducks into the ring and hauls Clint off, which causes Natasha to go after him.

 

For a few minutes, it’s pure chaos, with the kids attacking first Bruce, then Tony, and then Tony grabs Natasha and Bruce grabs Clint, and they both start tickling them. Tony had never expected to hear Natasha giggle like that, but he has to admit he likes the sound.

 

And he hopes Jarvis is recording this, because he’s not sure he’s heard Bruce laugh this hard either.

 

“All right,” Tony says after they’re all lying on the floor of the boxing ring, breathing heavily. “Time for lunch. You two, go unwrap your hands, and don’t forget I won a quiet afternoon!”

 

The kids scamper off, and Tony looks at Bruce. “So, did you come to check up on me.”

 

“Partially,” Bruce admits, getting to his feet and offering Tony a hand up. “But mostly I missed you.”

 

Tony grins, knowing that he probably looks pretty goofy. “Yeah?”

 

“Well, mostly,” Bruce replies with a sly smile. “But Jarvis also mentioned that you might need some help.”

 

“Wanna watch a movie with us?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce laughs. “Good luck collecting with those two.”

 

Tony hooks an arm around Bruce’s neck. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

 

**6.**

 

The thing that Thor dislikes most about being away from Earth so long is not being apart from Jane, although that’s difficult enough.  No, what he hates is being away from those he calls friends, and not knowing when something of import occurs.

 

He would call _this_ important.

 

“But how could this be?” Thor asks. “When someone attacked Captain Rogers, I thought…” He trails off, looking at Bruce Banner, who shrugs. “My brother is still imprisoned in Asgard, and was there a month ago when this occurred.”

 

Thor had come looking for Jane, but had not found her in her lab, and had gone to see if Bruce knew where he might find her. He’d been unsurprised to find Stark there, but the news of Clint and Natasha’s misfortune dismays him, if only because it seems that Loki’s crimes will forever haunt him, serving as a reminder of Thor’s failure.

 

“We believe you, Blondie,” Tony replies, patting him on the arm. “We think it might be a copycat.”

 

Thor frowns. “I don’t know that term.”

 

“Someone might be emulating your brother,” Bruce explains.

 

“Why?” Thor asks, unable to come up with any other response.

 

Bruce shrugs. “People do all kinds of crazy things. It’s hard to say.”

 

Tony gives him a quick, somewhat insincere smile. “Maybe they just want to be able to do magic tricks.”

 

Thor doesn’t pretend to understand those on Midgard.

 

Agent Coulson enters the lab, looking far more harried than Thor remembers seeing him before. “Have you seen the kids?” he demands.

 

Stark smirks. “Did you misplace them?”

 

“I turned my back for two seconds, and they disappeared,” Coulson replies. Then, as though he’s just noticing Thor’s presence, he says, “Hi, Thor.”

 

“Do you need assistance, Son of Coul?” Thor offers.

 

Bruce sighs. “Hang on. Jarvis, are the kids anywhere in the Tower?”

 

“I already tried that,” Coulson says testily.

 

“Neither of them are within range of the Tower’s surveillance cameras, but there’s no indication that they’ve left the premises,” Jarvis replies. “As I’ve already told Agent Coulson.”

 

“Forgive me for asking the obvious question,” Bruce replies.

 

Coulson shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just not sure where to look.”

 

“Let me be of assistance,” Thor offers.

 

“I’ll send out an announcement to all Tower personnel to be on the lookout,” Stark offers. “I’m sure they’ll turn up.”

 

Coulson glares at him. “My job is to keep them safe, and I can’t do that if _I don’t know where they are_.”

 

Bruce glances at Stark with a significant look. “We’ll help you look for them.”

 

Stark rolls his eyes, but he agrees. “Jarvis, keep scanning for them, and let us know if they appear. And Thor, Jane should be back in a couple of hours.”

 

“Even if she’s not, I will search until they’re found,” Thor promises.

 

Coulson manages a tight smile. “Thank you, Thor. I appreciate your help.”

 

“What floor did you lose them on?” Bruce asks.

 

“The Penthouse,” Coulson replies. “But they’re not there.”

 

“We’ll each take a few floors,” Bruce says, his tone soothing.

 

Thor doesn’t argue when Bruce assigns him a series of floors, and he begins the search, feeling as though he’s missing something. In his dealings with Clint, the other man had always sought the high ground, and Coulson is thorough.

 

That means they are somewhere hidden, somewhere no one would look…

 

Loki had always been better at these sorts of games, but Thor had learned from him, and he glances at the air vent. It would not be big enough for a man, but for two small children, it would make an ideal hiding place.

 

“Jarvis, are there any strange noises from the air vents?” Thor asks.

 

“The floor below you, sir,” Jarvis replies after a pause. “I believe you have the right of it.”

 

Thor jumps down the stairs and heads for the area of the building Jarvis directs him, listening for any strange noises from the ventilation system. When he hears scuffling as he passes under one vent, Thor ignores the stares of a few employees—he hadn’t taken the time to change our of his Asgardian garments—and pries off the vent cover.

 

He moves quickly, reaching in, and grabbing the first thing he comes into contact with, and hauls out a small boy by the back of his shirt.

 

“You must be Clint,” Thor rumbles.

 

“Lemme go!” Clint shouts.

 

A small girl tumbles out of the air vent and attacks him, but Thor has no trouble grabbing her and tucking her under his other arm. “Coulson is looking for the two of you,” Thor says, “and he was most distressed by your disappearance.”

 

“We were just having some fun!” Clint protests. “The vents are cool!”

 

“That may be, but you were most unkind to someone who is responsible for your well-being,” Thor replies sternly. “Jarvis, please inform Agent Coulson that we will meet him in the main living quarters.”

 

He hauls them back upstairs, still protesting mightily, demanding to walk. Thor does not trust them to accompany him unaided, and so he refuses to put them down.

 

Coulson is waiting for them when Thor arrives, and Thor feels rewarded by the slight smile that touches his lips when he sees Thor carrying the two kids. “I owe you a debt,” he says formally.

 

“You owe me nothing,” Thor replies. “I am happy to be of assistance.”

 

He puts the kids down, and watches as Coulson fixes them with a stern look. “What do you two have to say for yourselves?”

 

“We were just messing around,” Clint replies sullenly.

 

Coulson points at the couch. “Sit, both of you. Do not move from the couch. If you do, you will not like the consequences. And if you ever, _ever_ pull something like that again, you _will_ regret it.”

 

Thor recalls his father using a very similar tone of voice only twice, and the memory alone is enough to have his stomach twisting in remembered shame. Clint hangs his head, and Natasha’s shoulders hunch, and they do exactly as they’re told without further protest.

 

“I think I’d like a drink,” Coulson says. “Would you like a beer?”

 

“I would,” Thor agrees, sensing that Coulson has opted to ignore the children for the time being.

 

Coulson asks him questions about Asgard and how things are there, and Thor describes some of the inner workings of his father’s court while ignoring the kids fidgeting on the couch.

 

Jane arrives after half an hour and squeals when she sees Thor. He catches her up and swings her around. If there’s one good thing about leaving Midgard, it’s reuniting.

 

He kisses her, forgetting that he has an audience, and then ignores the gagging sounds that Clint makes from the couch.

 

“It’s good to see you,” she says breathlessly when Thor pulls back.

 

“And you,” Thor replies, and he gives Clint and Natasha a stern look. “Do not make me hunt for you again,” he warns. “You will like the results even less next time.”

 

“Go on, get out of here,” Coulson says. “I’m sure you have some catching up to do.”

 

Thor smiles. “We do, but let me know if you need any assistance while I’m here.”

 

It’s the least he can do for his friends, particularly if Loki is at the root of the problem, even if indirectly.

 

**7.**

 

The thing is, Bruce has always liked kids, and while the idea of history repeating itself had scared him, being with Betty had convinced Bruce that he could leave the past behind.

 

He could get married, have a family, and break the cycle. His life would be different; he would be a better man—a better husband and father—than his father had been.

 

And then came the Other Guy, and Bruce had to let go of a lot of dreams, including being a husband and a father. For the most part, he doesn’t mind, because his life now is better than he’d been able to hope for since the accident. He has Tony and Pepper, and maybe it’s strange, but it _works_ , and Bruce wants to be content. He _is_ content.

 

But the truth is that Bruce likes having the kids around, he doesn’t mind looking after them, and taking care of them reminds him of what he’ll never have, and that reminder holds a certain amount of pain.

 

Not that Bruce would give it up; looking after shrunk-down Avengers is the closest he’ll ever get to being a parent. But as he’d admitted to Tony, that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

 

“There you are,” Pepper says cheerfully as she enters his lab. “I have a couple of applications I’d like you to look at, and there are a couple of universities that are asking to place their physicists with you in externships.”

 

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “With Stark Industries, or with me in particular?”

 

“They want you as their supervisor,” Pepper replies, tipping Bruce’s chin up for a long, searching kiss. “Will you do it?”

 

“I’ll look over the request,” Bruce replies, chasing her down for another kiss. “Externships require a little more supervision usually, and I wouldn’t want to hurt anybody’s chances to get a degree.”

 

Pepper smiles and with a swipe of her fingers on her tablet sends Bruce the files. “Well, do what you think best. Maybe you and Jane could share responsibility.”

 

“I’ll talk to her,” Bruce promises. “Is there anything else?”

 

Pepper tugs the front of Bruce’s shirt, pulling him close. “I could think of a few things.”

 

Bruce chuckles. “Anything you want.”

 

He’s lost for a time in her touch, which is as confident as Tony’s, but very different, too.

 

The thing is, Tony might be a kindred spirit, but Pepper and him—they’d become a team when looking after Tony after he’d been hit with Loki’s magic.

 

“That’s just the appetizer,” Pepper murmurs as she pulls back. “I expect a full meal tonight.”

 

Bruce smiles. “I think that can be arranged, if you can pry Tony out of his lab.”

 

“Who says we need his participation?” Pepper counters. “We can get started without him. I guarantee you he’ll show up.”

 

Bruce runs his hands down her back. “Very true.”

 

She leans in for another kiss. “I have to go. Look these over, and if you’re free for lunch, we can talk about it then.”

 

“I promised to take Clint and Natasha to a climbing wall this afternoon,” Bruce admits, “but I think I can manage an early lunch.”

 

“Say 11:30?” Pepper suggests. “At the bistro around the corner?”

 

“Perfect,” Bruce agrees.

 

With a last, lingering caress, Pepper’s gone, leaving Bruce to look over the applications and requests for externships, as well as getting through the rest of his work for the morning. Knowing that he doesn’t have the afternoon to work, he has to get twice as much done or spend the night in the lab.

 

Normally, Bruce isn’t opposed to that idea, but he knows all too well what kind of energy Clint and Natasha take. Chances are, he’s going to collapse into bed and not stir until morning.

 

Although maybe he’ll manage to drum up enough energy to take part in Pepper’s plans.

 

He goes through the letters and applications and sets aside a couple that look promising, although he’s none too sure he wants to sign on for the responsibility of baby scientists. Still, he sends an email to Jane asking whether she’d be interested in helping out, and then stops by Tony’s lab.

 

Metallica blares so loudly that Bruce can hear it through the door, and he recognizes Tony’s intense concentration, having seen it often enough. Even if Bruce tries to get his attention, he knows that Tony won’t pay him much if any attention. There’s no way Bruce has any hope of getting Tony out of his lab, or having a conversation with him.

 

With a shrug, Bruce heads out for his lunch date with Pepper, finding her waiting for him, tapping away on her phone. Bruce takes the seat across from her and wonders if they should worry about paparazzi.

 

As though she’s reading his mind, Pepper says, “As far as the rest of the world knows, we’re two business associates having lunch. Plus, I think everyone is aware how close we are.”

 

“Yeah,” Bruce agrees, wishing he could reach across the table and hold her hand. He has to be careful when he’s out with Tony, too, although they’d all agreed it’s for the best. Bruce certainly doesn’t want to deal with the publicity or the scrutiny if it were to come out.

 

Pepper’s foot brushes his leg under the table, and Bruce fights a grin. “Did you have a chance to look at the information I gave you?”

 

“I’m going to do it,” Bruce replies, passing her the most promising letters. “I asked Jane if she’d help, and if she agrees, we might be able to take on a couple more.”

 

“Remember, they’re also here to take some of the load off you,” Pepper says. “ _Use_ them.”

 

Bruce huffs a laugh. “I already have people, remember? I have my own department.”

 

“But you don’t have minions,” Pepper counters. “Everyone needs minions.”

 

“Tony doesn’t need minions.”

 

“Tony isn’t allowed to have minions,” Pepper replies with a smile. “He’d probably make them cry.”

 

Bruce smiles. “True.”

 

There’s a pause as their waiter comes bearing glasses of water and takes their orders. Bruce has been here often enough that he has a favorite dish and doesn’t need to look at the menu.

 

“How are you really?” Pepper asks quietly once the waiter is gone. “I know having Steve around was tough on you, and now with Clint and Natasha…”

 

Bruce shrugs. “It helps that I’m not solely responsible,” he admits. “And I feel like I owe them.”

 

Pepper gives him a long, studied look. “You don’t owe everyone who’s kind to you, Bruce. You deserve kindness as much as the next person.”

 

For all Tony’s genius, Bruce thinks, Pepper’s the one with the knack for reading people, and he flushes as he realizes that Pepper’s nailed it. “Don’t we all?” he asks lightly. “I’m fine with it.”

 

Pepper shakes her head but doesn’t press. “Just try not to wear yourself out this afternoon.”

 

“Thor said he might come,” Bruce replies. “I think he was intrigued by the climbing wall.”

 

Pepper chuckles. “I assume Jane will dress him.”

 

“Let’s hope so,” Bruce agrees. “I don’t really want to draw more attention than necessary.”

 

“Thor should draw all the attention on his own,” Pepper replies with a laugh. “Even if he’s wearing civilian attire.”

 

Their food arrives, and Pepper changes the subject to other, everyday sorts of things, and it’s good. It’s better than good, and Bruce lets her direct their conversation.

 

Once they’ve finished their lunches, she pays, and brushes her lips against Bruce’s cheek. “I have a meeting across town, but I’ll see you tonight,” she promises, and Bruce hopes that his interest isn’t too obvious.

 

When he gets back to the Tower, Clint and Natasha are waiting for him impatiently, fidgeting on the couch, but apparently behaving. Bruce suspects that Phil had reinforced the threat to call this field trip off if they put a toe out of line.

 

Thor and Jane are there, too, with Thor wearing jeans and a t-shirt, rather than his armor.

 

“Glad you could make it, Thor,” Bruce says warmly. “Are you coming with us?”

 

“I would like to see this climbing wall,” Thor replies with a smile. “It sounds like a fine test of strength.”

 

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “Jane? Are you joining us?”

 

“I thought I might,” she replies. “Someone should probably keep an eye on you guys.”

 

Clint grins. “Can we go?”

 

“Thor? How have they been this morning?” Bruce asks.

 

Thor seems to be thinking hard about the question, and Clint protests, “We’ve been really good!”

 

“They have been cooperative,” Thor acknowledges, the admission sounding almost reluctant. “I suppose they might be trusted to conduct themselves appropriately in public.”

 

“Good enough for me,” Bruce agrees. He’s pleased and a little surprised when Natasha slips her hand in his as they take the elevator down to the garage.

 

“I got your email,” Jane says. “And I think it’s a good idea.”

 

“You’ll help?”

 

She nods. “I can take at least two, maybe three.” Jane grins at him. “I’ve always wanted minions.”

 

“I thought you had one in New Mexico,” Bruce replies.

 

“Darcy? She’s in grad school now,” Jane says, a little wistfully. “She was handy with a taser.”

 

Thor rubs his chest. “She was.”

 

“What’s a taser?” Clint pipes up.

 

“It’s a weapon,” Bruce replies. “Non-lethal. It gives people a shock and knocks them out.”

 

“Most effectively,” Thor confirms.

 

Clint’s eyes light up. “Can I see one?”

 

“We don’t have one around here,” Bruce replies. “So, no.”

 

He doesn’t think it wise to mention that Tony could easily build one out of spare parts in a couple of hours, and probably a better one than could be bought on the market.

 

Bruce has no intention of climbing, but Thor straps on a harness, as do the kids, who can barely stand still long enough for the assistant to strap them in. Thor seems a little disappointed that he can’t free-climb, but Jane points out that he ought to set a good example.

 

“Are you watching, Bruce?” Clint calls as he begins to climb. “Watch!”

 

“I’m watching,” Bruce replies with an indulgent smile. “Go on!”

 

Clint begins to climb, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. Natasha moves with deliberate speed, strategically choosing hand and footholds with a strength and agility that Bruce no longer finds surprising.

 

Thor climbs more slowly than he probably could have, letting the kids outpace him by a foot or two. He clearly isn’t finding the climbing wall much of a challenge, but he calls out, “Well done, Clint,” when Clint makes a particularly difficult maneuver.

 

Natasha reaches the top first and rappels down with a triumphant grin. Once she’s down, she calls to Bruce in Russian. “Can I climb again?”

 

“You have two chances,” Bruce replies. “Go for it.”

 

Clint rappels down next, whooping the entire time, and he doesn’t even pause before starting again. When Thor’s feet are on solid ground, he waves off assistance as he removes the harness.

 

“Did you not have fun?” Jane asks.

 

“It was diverting,” Thor admits. “But not a challenge.”

 

“I think the kids just like rappelling,” Jane says.

 

Bruce smiles. “Maybe they’ll actually be tired out tonight.”

 

“Phil should be back by the time we arrive,” Jane replies. “You could turn them over to him.”

 

“I thought he was supposed to be gone all day,” Bruce says.

 

Jane shrugs. “He said he’d probably be done early. I think he feels guilty for leaving them.”

 

“They are quite the handful,” Thor agrees. “But I do not mind assisting a friend.”

 

“It’s nice to spend some time out of the lab on occasion,” Jane says, tucking her arm through Thor’s.

 

Bruce envies them their easy, public intimacy, but he shoves that emotion aside and focuses on the kids. Natasha reaches the top first once again, and Clint fights for the last few feet, but finally makes it.

 

“I beat you,” Natasha crows when Clint finally joins them.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint replies, disgruntled. “I think you cheated.”

 

Natasha sticks out her tongue. “I think I’m stronger.”

 

“Stop,” Bruce says mildly, playing peacemaker. “You both beat Thor. Are you guys hungry?”

 

The mention of food is a good change of subject until they start arguing over what they want to eat. “I won, I choose,” Natasha insists.

 

“Maybe I should choose because I lost,” Clint counters.

 

Natasha’s eyes narrow. “You make no sense.”

 

“Enough!” Thor says, his voice just under a roar. “Bruce can choose, as it was his generosity that allowed you to come on this trip.”

 

Bruce tries not to grin. “Thank you, Thor. I think we’ll just do pizza when we get back to the Tower.”

 

The kids brighten at that, and Bruce had been fully aware that they’d be more than happy with pizza. He chose pizza because it’s easy, and no one will complain as long as they’ve got the toppings they want.

 

And Bruce knows a place that will do half and half, and if they order enough pizzas, they should be able to keep the peace. If not, Bruce can always claim that he’s feeling a little green and retreat to his lab.

 

Bruce isn’t above invoking the Other Guy at this point, although he’s pretty sure that they’ll know he’s shading the truth.

 

Phil and Steve are in the living area when they arrive, watching TV in companionable silence, and Natasha skips up to Phil, saying, “I won! I beat Clint _and_ Thor,” in Russian.

 

Clint glares at her. “I still think you cheated.”

 

“I didn’t think you spoke Russian,” Steve objects.

 

“I’m learning,” Clint replies, tossing himself down on the couch next to Steve. “She keeps rubbing it in,” he complains. “Phil, make her stop.”

 

“Do I have to separate you two?” Phil asks. “Sit down, and watch TV. In silence, please. We had a long day.”

 

Clint and Natasha subside into sullen silence, and Bruce wonders if it’s too much to hope for to have Pepper walk through the door and announce that she has something very important to talk about that requires a lot of privacy.

 

“Has Tony emerged from his lab yet, Jarvis?” Bruce asks.

 

“He hasn’t stepped a foot outside yet today, sir,” Jarvis replies. “Good luck.”

 

Bruce sighs. “Thanks, but I think I’ll wait for him to come to me.”

 

Steve snorts. “How long is that going to be?”

 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Bruce admits. “Jarvis, I think we’re going to need pizza.”

 

“I’ll order the usual,” Jarvis replies. “Anything else, sir?”

 

“Not right now,” Bruce replies.

 

Clint and Natasha sit still for about five minutes, and then Clint pokes Natasha, and she pokes him back, and two seconds later they’re rolling around on the floor, wrestling.

 

Phil pinches the bridge of his nose, as though he has a headache, and Bruce closes his eyes, as though that will make it go away. When he opens his eyes again, Steve and Thor have waded in, and Steve has Natasha under one arm and Thor’s got Clint around the waist.

 

Bruce watches with amusement as Thor sets Clint down. “You will sit,” Thor rumbles, and there’s the sound of thunder echoing behind him. “And you will not move if you don’t want me to sit on you.”

 

Clint slumps down in the chair, pouting, and Steve sits Natasha between him and Phil. “Same goes for me,” Steve threatens.

 

Pepper walks in just then, and Bruce breaths a sigh of relief. “I need to talk to you,” he says immediately.

 

She doesn’t even blink. “I need to talk to you, too.”

 

Bruce leads the way back to the bedroom. “Thank you,” he says as soon as the door closes behind them. “I just needed a little space.”

 

“I did promise you some afterhours activities,” Pepper replies. “Jarvis, tell Tony he can join us if he gets here in time. If not, he’ll have to make it up to us later.”

 

“I will do my best,” Jarvis promises.

 

“In the meantime,” Pepper begins. “Let’s see if we can’t get you a little more relaxed.”

 

And Bruce loses himself in her, feeling as though he has the best of all possible worlds.

 

**8.**

 

Jane walks into Bruce’s lab with the intention of talking to him about the applications that have come in, and finds him with Tony, arguing over some data.

 

“Jane!” Tony calls as soon as he catches sight of her. “You can settle the dispute.”

 

She gives them an uncertain look, knowing full well that the dispute could be over anything from the best Doctor from _Doctor Who_ to whether a particular chemical composition would serve its purpose. “I can try.”

 

“We’re trying to find the source of the radiation that may be responsible for shrinking Clint and Natasha, and probably Steve,” Bruce explains. “It looks a lot like the gamma radiation Loki used.”

 

Tony frowns. “But it’s just different enough that we’re having trouble tracing it, and it’s possible that we won’t locate whoever’s using it until they try again.”

 

“We’re trying to figure out whether we can reverse it,” Bruce adds. “And we’re having a disagreement as to whether it’s worth it.” He gives Tony a sharp look. “Since it would probably require exposing those affected to radiation, my vote is to wait for it to wear off.”

 

Tony waves that concern aside. “Of course. I’m not saying we put anyone at risk; there’s no need. But what if it doesn’t wear off this time? That’s always a possibility.”

 

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” Jane says, heading off the disagreement.

 

Jane’s with Bruce; she thinks it wiser to wait until the effects wear off on their own, but it’s a fascinating problem.

 

“I think you’re on the right track,” she says, looking over the data and the preliminary conclusions. “But I think we’d have to be able to replicate the initial effect, maybe on an animal, before we attempted to reverse it.”

 

“Now, that’s an idea,” Tony says. “I can get animals.”

 

Bruce grimaces. “I’m not really on board with animal testing, Tony.”

 

“We’ll get an old animal,” Tony replies. “One that’s nearly dead. If it works, we’ll be giving it a new lease on life.”

 

Bruce sighs. “I’ll think about it. We’ll have to figure out how to shrink it down first.”

 

Jane pulls her hair back with the elastic band around her wrist. “Well, someone figured out how to get it done, and it wasn’t Loki, so we know it’s not magic, and that means we can replicate it.”

 

She enjoys working with the two of them. They tend to finish one another’s sentences, moving around each other as though anticipating the other’s next move, except when companionably bumping hips and shoulders.

 

Around Tony, Bruce is more relaxed and laughs more easily. Even when they’re arguing, there’s an undercurrent of affection, leading to an atmosphere that’s more collegial than some of the other team projects Jane’s worked on.

 

“We’ve got an alert,” Bruce says suddenly, breaking into Tony’s explanation for why they should make their first test subject a rat, before moving on to a dog—because everybody loves puppies, right?

 

“Wait, what?” Tony asks.

 

Bruce blows up the data. “He’s struck again. It’s the same energy signature.”

 

“What’s he doing?” Jane asks.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I’m not—chaos. He’s causing chaos. Look.”

 

He pulls up the news report and sends it to the screen.

 

Jane blinks as she sees the shaky footage of—“Centaurs?”

 

As though in response, the blonde reporter says, “Megan Morrison here on the scene. We’ve had reports of mythical creatures overrunning the town. It seems impossible to believe, but there you have it.”

 

There’s a roar off camera, and the view swings to a huge troll.

 

“Oh, shit,” Tony mutters. “Where is this?”

 

“Some little town in Iowa,” Bruce replies. “And before you ask, I have no idea why it’s Iowa.”

 

Jarvis announces, “You have a call from Director Fury, sir. He would like to talk to you as well, Dr. Banner.”

 

“I’ll bet I can guess what he wants,” Tony replies. “Put him through, Jarvis.”

 

Fury’s face appears on the screen. “I need the Avengers in Iowa, Stark.”

 

“We’re already on it,” Tony replies, his tone going from jocular to serious in a flash. “We think it’s the same guy that shrunk down Steve, Clint, and Natasha.”

 

Fury might be impressed. “The Quinjet will pick you all up from the Tower. Dr. Foster, I’m afraid I have to impose on you. With two of the team down, I need Coulson, which means someone’s going to have to look after Barton and Romanoff.”

 

Jane feels like this is probably a really bad idea, but at the same time, she has no idea how she’s supposed to say no to Fury. “Sure, of course. Happy to help, sir.”

 

“Your cooperation is appreciated,” Fury replies.

 

When his image disappears, Jane sighs. “What did I just get myself into?”

 

“Jarvis, call Pepper and tell her that Jane needs backup,” Tony instructs. “And I need my suit.”

 

“I think I can handle them,” Jane protests halfheartedly, knowing better. Thor has been spending a lot of time with Agent Coulson and Steve over the last couple of weeks because if all else fails, Steve and Thor can sit on them.

 

Bruce gives her a sympathetic smile. “Backup is always a good thing, trust me.”

 

Thor has already donned his armor when they take the elevator up to the living quarters, and Steve has his mask on and his shield slung over his back.

 

Clint and Natasha are watching them with something like awe in their eyes.

 

Thor gives Jane a brief smile and a quick kiss, and then fixes the two kids with a stern look. “You two will behave. I will take it amiss if you cause her trouble.”

 

“Same goes for me,” Steve insists.

 

They nod, apparently subdued.

 

“Be good,” Coulson adds, ruffling Clint’s hair and pressing a kiss to Natasha’s forehead. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

 

Bruce pats her on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. See you later, kids.”

 

Tony’s already on the roof, and he flips the faceplate down as the Quinjet comes into sight.

 

“Time to go,” Coulson says. “Thanks for helping out, Dr. Foster.”

 

“Sure,” she replies, a little intimidated by the company she’s apparently keeping. Thor in his armor, Steve in his uniform, and Tony in the suit—they’re incredibly imposing. Bruce is the only one who looks just the same in his rumpled clothes, and with his hands in his pockets, but in this company, Jane has an easier time picturing the leashed power under his skin.

 

In another few minutes, they’re gone, leaving Jane with a couple of kids that she has no idea how to handle.

 

“So, here’s the thing,” Jane says after a moment’s silence. “I’d really like this to work out, and I’m sure you guys do, too. What do you want to do?”

 

“We can watch a movie,” Clint suggests, still sounding a little cowed. “Can we have cookies?”

 

Jane thinks that’s a fair bargain. “Tell you what. I’ll make sure we get cookies, and you guys pick the movie.”

 

She goes into the kitchen and quietly asks, “Jarvis? Can we get cookies? Is that possible?”

 

“More than possible, Dr. Foster,” Jarvis assures her in the same low tone. “May I also advise ordering in dinner?”

 

“Great suggestion,” Jane replies. “What do they like?”

 

“Cheeseburgers and chicken nuggets seem to be popular,” Jarvis replies.

 

Jane winces, thinking that the combination doesn’t seem all that healthy, but decided it doesn’t matter. “Whatever keeps them happy.”

 

By the time she gets back into the living room, _Star Wars_ is playing—Episode IV, she’s grateful to see—and she has an order in for both cookies and dinner later.

 

They’re still watching the movie when Pepper shows up an hour later carrying a cardboard box, and she sits down next to Jane on the couch. “It looks like you’ve got things under control,” she murmurs.

 

Jane shrugs. “For now. I think that Thor put the fear of God in them.”

 

Pepper chokes on a laugh. “Which god?”

 

Jane grins in response. “I’ll let you decide.”

 

“Jarvis, pause,” Pepper says, opening the box. “I heard you guys wanted cookies.”

 

Clint and Natasha crowd around her, taking their time choosing a treat from the assortment in the box.

 

“Milk?” Jane suggests.

 

“Yes, please,” Clint says with his mouth full.

 

Natasha nods. “ _Pozhaluista_. Please.”

 

The movie resumes, the kids drink their milk, and they behave admirably. If Jane weren’t worried about Thor, it might be a perfect evening.

 

The kids fall asleep midway through the second movie after consuming an obscene amount of chicken nuggets—Pepper and Jane had both ordered salads—and Jane asks, “Does it get any easier?”

 

Pepper’s quiet for a moment, watching the screen. “It helps to know that Bruce is with them,” she admits. “The Hulk is very good at protecting the people Bruce cares about, and he’s become attached to the rest of the team.” She glances over at Jane. “But no, it doesn’t get easier.”

 

Jane nods. “I almost feel as though it gets harder,” she admits. “As though every time Thor comes home, he’s beating the odds, and that means the next time…” She trails off, not wanting to give voice to her fears.

 

She’s not superstitious in the least, but she doesn’t want to take the chance that her concerns will come to fruition.

 

“Yes,” Pepper says briefly. “And even if the worst doesn’t happen, you never know what will.”

 

Jane follows her gaze to Clint and Natasha, curled up together on the couch, and it’s adorable without question, but a month ago they were adults.

 

And now Thor is facing the same threat, and there’s no telling whether he’ll come back the same as when he’d left, or whether he’ll be changed.

 

She can’t help but wonder whether if he _does_ come back different, it will be reversible, or permanent.

 

If anyone understands that fear, Jane thinks, it has to be Pepper.

 

“Do you think it’s worth it?” she asks, although it’s almost a rhetorical question. Even if it’s not worth it, Jane doesn’t think she’d change it for the world.

 

Pepper glances over at her with a smile. “It’s more than worth it. It can be hard, but I don’t have any regrets. Whatever happens, I won’t have any regrets.”

 

Jane nods, and she can’t help but agree. Her life is richer for having known Thor—for having known all the Avengers—and she isn’t sorry to have taken the risk.

 

**9.**

 

Phil is grateful to be back out in the field, and he’ll be even happier when he’s out in the field with Clint and Natasha back to normal.

 

He’d signed up for SHIELD with the promise that he’d never be bored, but he’d no idea just how weird things were going to get.

 

Phil keeps an ear out for the team as he directs SHIELD personnel in containment and clean up, and it sounds as though they’re managing without Clint and Natasha. Stark is calling out positions, and Steve is making tactical calls. Thor and the Hulk are working together to deal with the herd of centaurs.

 

A snippet of conversation catches Phil’s attention. “He just came out of nowhere,” a woman exclaims. “He says that he wanted to make every fantasy a reality!”

 

Phil gestures to the agent who’s escorting her to safety. She’s middle-aged with disheveled graying blonde hair and a smudge of dirt on one cheek, and a torn and dirty blouse. “Do you know where this individual is now?”

 

“He’s in the bank,” she says, her voice shaking with emotion. “Are you going to stop him?”

 

Phil offers a reassuring smile. “Of course. Go with these agents now. They’ll keep you safe.”

 

When he’s sure she can’t overhear him, Phil signals Steve. “I think I have a lead on our subject.”

 

“Where?” Steve asks, sounding breathless.

 

“The bank,” Phil replies. “I’m heading there now.”

 

“Wait for us,” Steve orders.

 

Phil isn’t going to let the chance to catch this guy slip by him, and he replies, “Meet me there.”

 

He signals a team and they take off for the bank at a fast jog. It’s only a few blocks away, and Phil arrives before anyone else does. “Maintain a perimeter,” he orders. “I don’t want this guy to get away.”

 

“Should we go in with you, sir?” Evans asks.

 

Phil shakes his head. “No, but when Captain Rogers gets here, send him in.”

 

“I’m there in thirty seconds,” Stark says over the coms. “Why don’t you wait for me?”

 

“Thanks, but you’ve got your own problems,” Phil replies. “What is it right now? Centaurs or trolls?”

 

Stark grunts. “Trolls. But I’m taking care of them.” There’s a pause. “Or the Hulk is. Good one, Big Guy!”

 

Phil ignores him and enters the bank cautiously, his high-powered taser at the ready, especially constructed to be non-lethal. “This is Agent Coulson from SHIELD. Surrender peacefully.”

 

“Do you think you can take me, Agent Coulson of SHIELD? After I reduced two of your agents to mere children?”

 

The voice seems to come from all around him, but Phil remembers Loki’s magic tricks, and he knows not to trust his senses. Phil can’t be sure, but he thinks the voice is that of a young man.

 

“What do you want?” Phil calls out. “What’s the point of all this?”

 

The ensuing laughter is wild and slightly unhinged. “Chaos is the point! Shaking people out of their complacency, making them believe in the impossible! I’m changing the world!”

 

He _sounds_ like Loki, and Phil barely resists the urge to snarl in distaste. He’s not Loki’s biggest fan, especially not after the stabbing. Why anyone would want to emulate that nutcase, he has no idea.

 

The voice still echoes around the bank lobby, and Phil can’t make out where. The door eases open, and Phil turns in time to see Steve creeping inside, his shield on his arm.

 

Steve nods at him, then begins to make his way around the lobby, moving carefully and silently. Phil has to admit that he feels better having Steve at his back.

 

“You’re nothing but a magician,” Phil replies. “Using illusions to scare people. You’re not doing anything that matters.”

 

“You’re wrong!” The echo is gone now, and a young man stands in the lobby, wearing a green cape lined with silver, which is at odds with his skinny build and scraggly beard. “I’ll show you!”

 

“Over here, dumbass,” Steve calls, holding up his shield as the young man throws something that looks a bit like a lightning bolt at him.

 

With that moment of inattention, Phil fires his taser, and the kid goes down hard.

 

Steve stands up, dropping his shield. “Did we get him?”

 

“Are you okay?” Phil demands.

 

“I’m fine,” Steve says breathlessly. “Is he down?”

 

Phil nudges the kid with his shoe. “He’s down for the count.” He pulls a zip tie out of his pocket and secures the kid’s hands behind his back.

 

“What the hell was he talking about?” Steve asks, sounding mystified.

 

Phil shakes his head. “Hell if I know.”

 

Steve hauls the kid up, hanging onto him by the collar of his cape. “What are we going to do with him?”

 

“SHIELD will take custody of him,” Phil replies. “They’ll want to question him as to how he managed to do all of this.”

 

“Hey, guys, what happened?” Stark asks over the coms. “The trolls just disappeared.”

 

“So did the centaurs,” Thor confirms. “I believe that our green friend is most disappointed.”

 

“I’ll be there in a second,” Stark says. “Thor, go help Cap and Coulson.”

 

Phil doesn’t countermand the order, knowing full well that Stark is the best one to talk the Hulk down and deal with Bruce in the aftermath. Bruce always appreciates a familiar face when he comes back from a transformation, and he prefers Tony’s presence.

 

By the time Steve hauls the guy outside, there are SHIELD agents swarming the area now that they don’t have to fight against mythical creatures. Thor lands in front of them, hammer in hand. “Is this the person responsible?” Thor asks, giving the kid a dubious look.

 

“Yes, and I’d like to know how he did it,” Phil replies. He motions to the surrounding agents. “Until we have him contained, make sure he stays unconscious.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Evans says briskly. “We’ll get him to headquarters safely.”

 

Phil nods. “Good man. I’ll call the director and set up a time to debrief and an interrogation.”

 

“I wish we still had Natasha,” Steve mutters. “She’d get it out of him.”

 

“We have our ways,” Phil says, although privately he agrees. Natasha can get information out of just about anyone without laying a finger on them, and often without them even knowing what she’s after. “We’ll get the information we need.”

 

Right now, though, he itches to get back to the Tower. Clint and Natasha might drive him absolutely insane, but he’s still fond of them, and while he doesn’t doubt Jane’s competency in the lab—or Pepper’s competency in general—they’re still a handful, and they’re his responsibility.

 

Bruce comes limping up, with Stark shadowing him. Since Stark never walks when he could fly, Phil knows it’s love.

 

“Did we get him?” Bruce asks, looking like he’s about ready to fall over.

 

“We got him,” Phil confirms. “I’ll let Director Fury know that we’ll save the debriefing for tomorrow.”

 

Stark flips up his faceplate. “Good. I want to get Jolly Green here back to the Tower so he can get some food and get horizontal.”

 

“I’m fine, Tony,” Bruce protests. “Stop hovering.”

 

Stark ignores him. “We’re going straight back to the Tower, right?”

 

“We are,” Phil replies. “If you want, I’ll make sure Dr. Banner gets back in one piece.”

 

“That would be great,” Tony replies. “I’ll make sure there’s food when you get there.” He turns to Bruce. “You sure you’re okay?”

 

Bruce glares at him. “ _Tony_.”

 

“I’m going,” Tony protests. “See you in a few.” He presses a quick, hard kiss on Bruce’s mouth, flips the faceplate down, and takes off.

 

Bruce sighs. “Sorry about that. He tends to hover after a transformation.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve replies, clapping Bruce on a bare shoulder. “Come on, let’s get going.”

 

The Quinjet ride back to the Tower is fairly quiet. Thor seems pensive, and Steve appears to be napping. Bruce is always tired after the Hulk comes out, and he tips his head back and stays quiet.

 

They all disembark onto the roof when the Quinjet lands, and then it takes off again before they’re inside. Phil is grateful to see that Jane and Pepper are in one piece, and Tony is chatting with them while Clint and Natasha play video games on the console.

 

“There you are!” Tony says as soon as he catches sight of Bruce. “Food is on the way and will be here in about fifteen minutes. You have that long to get cleaned up and changed.”

 

“Time enough,” Bruce acknowledges, tired enough to drop an absentminded kiss on Tony’s lips, and then Pepper’s. “Be out in a minute.”

 

Jane is hiding a smile, and Thor and Steve smirk. “Mind if I do the same?” Steve asks.

 

“Go for it,” Tony replies.

 

“I think I’ll change into something more comfortable,” Thor says.

 

“How were they?” Phil asks when he’s alone with Jane and Pepper.

 

Jane smiles. “They were perfect angels.”

 

Phil raises his eyebrows. “I highly doubt that.”

 

“There’s a first time for everything,” Pepper replies with a smile. “You don’t need to worry. They were good. Did you catch the guy who did this?”

 

Phil nods. “Yes, but there’s no telling whether we’ll manage to get him to reverse the process, or even explain what happened.”

 

“Well, whatever happens, we’ll deal with it,” Jane insists cheerfully. “We’re all in this together, right?”

 

Phil glances at the kids, busily shooting virtual bad guys, and thinks about the last month or so. He’s felt overwhelmed and outgunned at times, but he’s certain that the rest of the team will have his back for as long as it takes to get Clint and Natasha back to normal.

 

It’s a good feeling.

 

Clint whoops in triumph. “Did you see, Phil? I got him!”

 

“I’m watching,” Phil replies. “Good job.”

 

And he knows that, whatever happens, the Avengers Initiative is a success. Despite all the naysayers, they’re a team now, and they’ve more than proved it.

 

He can’t help but be grateful for that.

 

**10.**

 

Clint blinks up at a ceiling that seems too close, close enough that he could reach up and touch it. For a second, he has no idea where he is, and then the memories come rushing back.

 

“Tasha?” he calls quietly, pulling away the remains.

 

There’s a long pause, and then Natasha says, “Are you okay?”

 

“I think I’m back to normal,” Clint replies. “You?”

 

“Same.”

 

When she doesn’t say anything else, Clint rolls out of bed, landing lightly on his feet. He recognizes the guest room at the Tower from the couple of times he’s stayed in it, although the bunk beds are new.

 

Natasha is perched on the edge of the bottom bunk, a blanket wrapped around herself. Clint follows her example and drags the blanket down with him, wrapping it around his waist. “I’m guessing your PJs fared as well as mine,” Clint jokes.

 

She gives him a rueful smile, but he can see how freaked out she is from the tension in her jaw, and her eyes. Her eyes are definitely freaked out. “Yeah.”

 

“Will it be weird if I hug you?” Clint asks.

 

Her smile turns a little more genuine. “No.”

 

He puts an arm around her and holds her tight. “I think we may owe Phil a fruit basket.”

 

“I think we might owe the whole team a fruit basket. Or in Thor’s case, Pop Tarts,” Natasha replies. “And I hate to say it, but I’m going to have to thank Stark.”

 

Clint smiles and rests his forehead against the top of her head. “Thank Bruce and Pepper. They’ll pass it along if they feel like it.”

 

She huffs a nearly silent laugh and presses her lips against his bare shoulder. “I’m going to need a shower and some clothes.”

 

Clint knows when he’s been given his marching orders. “I’ll see what I can find.”

 

He keeps the blanket clutched firmly around his waist and sticks his head out, a little surprised to see Phil standing right outside the door, a pile of clothes in his hands, wearing khakis and a blue Oxford open at the throat. Clint’s actually more surprised that he’s dressed so casually, than the fact that he’s there at all. “I thought you might need these.”

 

Clint raises his eyebrows. “How did you know?”

 

“Jarvis,” Phil explains succinctly. “I asked it—him—to notify me when you’d changed back. It had been long enough that I thought it likely you’d be back to normal soon.”

 

“And the clothes?” Clint asks, taking the bundle from Phil’s arms and recognizing his own stuff and Natasha’s.

 

“I knew you’d want them when you were back,” Phil replies, his expression as placid as ever. “I assume Agent Romanoff is also back to herself.”

 

“I’m fine!” Natasha calls from behind Clint.

 

“She’s fine,” Clint confirms. “We’ll be out in a little while.”

 

Phil nods. “We’ll be waiting.”

 

Clint frowns as he shuts the door, wondering who “we” is. “You want to take the first shower?” he asks.

 

Natasha takes her clothes from him. “Thanks.”

 

Clint sits back down on the bottom bunk and listens to the water run, trying to sort out the thoughts tumbling through his head. He’d just spent the last few months as a kid again, with Natasha no less, and it had been—

 

Good. Better than his childhood had been. Looking back, Clint realizes that he’d had seven people invested in his— _their_ —well-being—no matter how much he and Natasha had tried their patience.

 

Natasha emerges from the bathroom, her hair still wet, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, her feet bare. “I’m starving,” she admits.

 

“Go get something to eat,” Clint replies. “I’ll be out soon.”

 

She presses a kiss to his lips, lingering a bit, one hand on Clint’s cheek. “Fury will probably make us take some time off until he knows we’re back to normal.”

 

“Will you take that time?” Clint asks.

 

“With you, yes,” she says. “Phil could probably use a vacation as well.”

 

Clint chuckles. “He deserves one.”

 

He keeps the shower short, knowing that Natasha can handle the scrutiny from the others, but feeling strange without her close by. They’d spent nearly every waking minute together over the last few months, and he knows that it’s going to be hard getting back to the way things had been, where they’d go just as long without seeing each other.

 

Clint rubs the towel over his hair and takes a deep breath, and wonders if it’s strange that some small part of him wishes he were a child again.

 

~~~~~

 

Natasha steels herself for the scrutiny, and the questions. She’d heard what Phil said, and she expects the whole team to be there.

 

Instead, it’s just Bruce and Phil talking quietly over coffee, Phil dressed just as casually as Bruce, and Natasha falters, not sure what to do with Phil outside of his suit.

 

Plus, she remembers how gentle Bruce had been when he’d patched Clint up after his fall off the monkey bars, and the other times he’d looked after them.

 

And Natasha realizes that she trusts him, and she trusts Tony—she trusts the whole team; something had shifted when she’d been a child.

 

Natasha had been helpless in their hands, and they had been kind and careful, and that realization discomfits her.

 

She’s never trusted anybody like this before—except for Clint.

 

“Are you hungry?” Bruce asks gently. “We have bagels.”

 

“Thank you,” she replies. “Is there coffee?”

 

Bruce nods. “Coming right up. I can leave if you want.”

 

Natasha shakes her head. “No.” She hesitates, knowing that she needs to say something, but having a hard time finding the words. “Thank you.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “No big deal. I know it can be disorienting to come back.”

 

Natasha realizes that he doesn’t understand. “No, I—” She hesitates, then says in Russian, “ _Bolshoye spasiba_.”

 

Bruce looks startled, and then a slow smile breaks out over his face. “It was my pleasure.”

 

“I doubt that,” Natasha counters with a smile.

 

Bruce shrugs. “You’d be surprised.”

 

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “We were more annoying than Tony.”

 

“But it took two of you,” Bruce says with a smirk. He hands her a mug and puts a bagel in the toaster. “Breakfast will be right up.”

 

“Are you okay?” Phil asks, sounding concerned.

 

Natasha shrugs. “I’m well enough. How soon will Fury want us back?”

 

“I haven’t told him you’re back,” Phil replies. “I think we can wait a day or two.”

 

It’s an unexpected reprieve, and one that Natasha will gratefully take, although she does no more than nod.

 

“Hey, can I get a cup of coffee?” Clint asks plaintively as he walks into the kitchen. “I can’t believe how long it’s been.”

 

Bruce wordlessly slides a mug across the counter towards Clint.

 

“How are you feeling?” Phil asks. “Both of you?”

 

Clint shrugs off the question, not answering, but Natasha can see his discomfort. She says, “It’s a change.”

 

She wonders if Clint misses being a child, too. Natasha never would have believed she could miss childhood, but she does. In a few days time, they’ll be cleared for work, and then sent to opposite corners of the world.

 

Clint sips his coffee and rests his free hand at the small of her back. She feels the warmth of his broad palm and tries not to arch into his touch.

 

There’s the clink of metal on metal as Bruce drops a set of keys on the counter. “Tony said to take it with his compliments.”

 

Natasha picks up the keys. “What is this?”

 

“Go,” Phil says softly. “You have 48 hours before I call Director Fury.”

 

“And then the hordes will most certainly descend,” Bruce adds. “Trust me, take the time. Get used to being yourselves again.”

 

Natasha hesitates, looking at Phil. “What will you do?”

 

Phil suddenly grins, looking almost boyish. “Me? I’m going to take a couple of days off, catch up on my reading, maybe finish some paperwork. I’ll be fine.”

 

“Come back over tomorrow for dinner,” Bruce says. “We’ll have the whole team over, and you all can get reacquainted.”

 

Natasha recognizes the gesture for the favor that it is. Even Tony’s absence—and the absence of the rest of the team—tells her that the others are giving them time to adjust.

 

It’s a mark of their understanding, and of their caring, and she appreciates it more than she can say.

 

Right now, she wants some time and space to get used to the idea of being herself again, to get used to being in her own body.

 

And there’s one way she knows of to make sure she reclaims her body again.

 

“Finish your coffee and breakfast first,” Phil says. “You both need to eat.”

 

“Transformations take energy,” Bruce agrees, putting a bagel in front of Natasha. “Clint? You have to be hungry.”

 

“Eggs?” Clint asks hopefully.

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Bruce replies. “Toast?”

 

“I’d eat it,” Clint replies enthusiastically. He sits down next to her, and his hand finds hers. It reminds Natasha of when they were small together.

 

Natasha smiles. “You’d eat anything.”

 

“I’m not a picky eater,” Clint confirms. “I don’t think that’s a crime.”

 

“Not a crime,” Natasha replies, and leans into him, feeling greatly daring.

 

She and Clint have always been circumspect because there are rules against fraternization, but Bruce is breaking the same rules, and she knows he’ll keep their secret.

 

And Phil is studiously looking the other way—literally.

 

Clint kisses her temple. “You up for a day and a half of a break?”

 

“Yes.” Natasha smiles, and thinks of all the things they didn’t do while they were sleeping inches from each other. “I think I’ll be ready to rejoin the world then.”

 

Clint wraps an arm around her shoulders, and Phil very carefully doesn’t look at them, although he’s smiling, as is Bruce.

 

They have a little time, and then they’ll go back to their lives.

 

And Natasha knows there are worse lives to have, because she’s lived at least one.


End file.
